I'm unsure about this but, let's go on
by North13
Summary: England confesses to Canada. but, Canada doesn't find out about his feelings.
1. Chapter 1

England stood in his living room staring at the wall in front of him. His back was up against his floral antique couch upon which rested Canada, who was visiting for the weekend before their world meeting, and was deep in sleep. He was dreaming. Maybe even about something nice. He didn't know. Maybe he wasn't even dreaming at all and all Canada saw was blackness in his mind as he slept. Maybe, but he preferred to think that he was dreaming. Dreams were nice, they gave you hope.

England let out a sigh and sat down still leaning against the back of the couch. He gazed upwards a little bit. His head coming to rest against the back of the couch with a soft "thunk". His eyes stayed focused on the wall before him.

England let out a soft breath before speaking out loud to himself. "Hey Canada, would you like to hear about my feelings?"

England smiled a little. He was glad that Canada was still fast asleep on the couch behind him or what he was saying was going to be saying would have been really embarrassing.

"You know, Canada, I have liked you for a very long time. I can't even really remember when I first realized I like you. I think it may have even been way back when you first grew up to look like an adult, way back in the 1900's. Do you remember that day? It was just after America had left. I had been piss drunk that day, trying to drink enough to forget about what he said to me. I had been trying to drown my troubles out, childishly trying to avoid my problem, when I should have been trying to figure it all out rationally. And you had been so kind to me that day. You helped me get up onto my feet and led me home. You tried to sober me up and think about my problem for me. Thank you so very much for all of that."

England's breath caught in his throat, he cleared it, embarrassed a bit that his eyes were starting to tear up slightly. a few drops escaped to run down his cheeks. Impatiently, he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

England shifted his legs so that he was more comfortable, one leg going straight out from him and the other leg bent, just a bit, as if he were about to read a favorite novel.

His hands came down from their crossed position across his chest for his right hand to lay in his lap and for his left hand to then become balanced upon his bent knee.

"I really don't know how to say this, I never have been very good at this type of thing, and even if I am not too sure about saying this to you face to face quite yet, I would still like to say this to you, Canada.

England then went to stand up turning around and then leaning out over the top of his couch to look down upon Canada's peaceful sleeping face.

"Canada, I think that I might just love you."


	2. Chapter 2

'Why can't he see how much I like him?' Arthur thought to himself as he rested his head in his hand while gazing down the long conference room table towards Canada. He was glad his seat wasn't too far away so he could see him clearly but, not close enough that his staring would become noticed. That would be awkward.

He was pointedly ignoring the lecture taking place at the front of the room now. He wasn't even pretending to be interested in what was being said. He may respect Germany whenever he was talking to the assembled nation, but America? Ha, no. There were better uses of his time than that.

Such as this, watching Mathew nibble delicately on his bottom lip while he is trying to perfect a meaningless doodle on his paper. Then again, he could also be writing down notes about the lecture. But, he doubted that was what he was doing. A pencil moves across a paper to write, it goes from left to right in a smooth line then goes back again under the words it has just written to create a new line of meaning for the writer to look over and use at a later date.

That wasn't what he was doing. No, his pencil wasn't moving in that way. It was staying in the same spot on the paper. Just like how his own eyes had been staying fixed in the same spot for the past long while. Watching Mathew made a good distraction, from the boring lecture but also from his thoughts at the moment.

Or not quite moment as he'd been thinking this way for the past few months. Ever since he had suddenly and irrevercibly noticed Canada in a entirely new light that he hadn't been able to see him in before. A shame that. Maybe if he had seen him like this before he wouldn't have to be so scared of being friend-zoned, or rather family-zoned in his case.

Because, if he hadn't seen him in this way he was now before, then surely Mathew would never see him in the same way. His feelings were a fluke, it wouldn't happen again. It would be too much of a coincidence that Mathew would like him in the same way that he liked him. He would probably never return his feelings.

And so, he stayed there, unbothered by everyone else during the rest of the meeting. So different from his usual meetings, but then again no one noticed that he wasn't participating like he normally was, and he really wasn't in the mood for a fight with anyone.

'So, does it really matter or not if I let myself act like this? It doesn't, does it? No one cares. Which is good. It'd be bothersome if someone were to poke their nose into my business.'

He stayed alone in his seat, alone with his thoughts in the meeting and after the meeting ended in his room at home. But, just as he wasn't alone in the meeting room he wasn't alone in his house. For not two doors down from his own room was Canada's room, still there from his colonial days untouched by the ravages of time. It was kept pristine, completely clean, but for the occasional visit from its owner. Its owner that was in there even now.

It was bugging England to no end. His breath was too loud in the quiet of the room. But, not as loud as his heart that was racing and keeping any coherant thoughts at bay. It was just allowing his stray disjointed ones in.

'He's pretty.'

'I think I like him.'

'What should I do?'

Only those were bouncing around in his brain. It was driving him insane.

"Ugh. Mathew, you're driving me mad." England groaned as he hid his head in his hands before slowly dragging them down his face.

Like that would actually help his thought process at all. He still couldn't think clearly. Wasn't talking supposed to help with things like this?

And there from down the hall came the sound of a door quietely opening. He would have missed it if he wasn't so hyper aware of what was in that direction. It was the guest bedroom. Mathew's guest bedroom.

Mathew was in the hall, getting closer, his soft footsteps on the carpet being muffled but getting louder all the same. And silently slipped past, the light coming in underneath his door being blocked for an instant the only indication that he was there. Mathew always had been quiet. For a moment there it had seemed like Mathew was going to stop and come into his room.

"Bugger."

'Why am I so disappointed?' He thought to himself as the stifled sound of rattling dishes and the click of the stove being turned on came from his kitchen. Mathew was making a midnight snack.

'I could join him.' That thought was quickly banished though.

'I can't figure this out. It's probably only lust. I hate that feeling. It's so fake. But, there is no such thing as love most likely. So this is what I'm left with, a racing heart, fumbling thoughts, and with no idea of what I want to do with it. I hate feelings. I absolutely hate it. Go away. Why won't they just go away?'


	3. Chapter 3

It was a few days later that he had to face his difficulties again. It was the afternoon. The meeting had ended earlier that day and him and Mathew were out on the streets near where he lived shopping and just walking around. Mathew seemed to be having fun sightseeing. Then again, it wasn't that often that he got to come to London so his excitement was perfectly justified to Arthur. He'd probably enjoy going to Ottawa or any of Mathew's other capitals too. He had already seen everything around him though. It wasn't too exciting to him.

What was more exciting was the person darting around beside him and looking every way. That was what he found exciting. Too exciting. Most people like exciting things. Most of the time he would too, but not with this. Not with Mathew staying so close to him. It might give him away. And that, that would not be good. It wouldn't be good at all.

Mathew had cooked lunch for them both earlier, which was awful for England. It wasn't the taste or anything like that he didn't like. It was the situation itself. Mathew cooking for him had just felt too...domestic.

He had to leave the room eventually, and live through Mathew's inquiring stares while they were eating. He was probably wondering why he had left the room so suddenly, in the middle of a conversation too. Mathew seemed to have no idea what he was thinking about him, which was good.

And yet, he couldn't help wishing that he would just get it already so that he wouldn't have to live through all these disjointed thoughts, and all the nervousness, and the fear of rejection that was always accompanying them.

What would Mathew ever see in him? A former father figure? Definetely nothing even the slightest bit romantic. He stood no chance of being seen as otherwise in Mathew's eyes most likely. He could never be seen as a love interest, that was for sure. And a relationship where Mathew saw him as a father would be too creepy.

'I'm doomed.' Arthur thought as he watched Mathew lean forward to sniff at some flowers artfully displayed on a stand in front of a small store.

He looked so beautiful like that. His hair had fallen forward to frame his face and it shone a honey gold colour in the afternoon light. His eyes had closed to concentrate on smelling the flower better. Mathew looked so happy and at peace with himself in that moment. The scene was perfect for him. He wanted it to last forever.

Arthur looked towards the store. A florist shop.

"Could you wait here for just a moment Mathew? I just need to get something really quick." Arthur was already heading for the entrance to the store as he spoke. Mathew barely even looked up from the flower that had caught his attention so easily to nod his acknowledgment of Arthur's words.

The inside of the store was mainly filled with orchids. They were all very pretty flowers, and delicate looking like the flowers on display outside. But, they weren't what he was looking for. Thankfully they did have what he wanted. Which was unusual as his order was very strange. How was it that they had exactly what he wanted?

He swiftly paid and walked out of the store with a red prairie lily, a dogwood flower, and eleven other colourful flowers. Each one the provincil or territorial flower of Canada's different pieces of land.

He hoped that Mathew would understand the special meaning attached to them. That he noticed him. He saw him. He honestly cared about him. Why else would he know such otherwise useless information like what his flowers were but for that reason? Who would know those kinds of things? He wanted to see Mathew hold the flowers and be happy because of them during their whole walk to his home together. And with this kind of gift, maybe he would get to see the look that Mathew gave those flowers outside the store one more time.

* * *

Hello everyone. Sorry for such a short chapter. I just want to tell you that I haven't forgotten this story, and that while I was camping this summer I wrote out the entirety of the story. So, when my internet connection is more stable, probably when school starts, I'll be able to update faster. Sorry for the wait and everything. I hope you are all having a wonderful summer vacation.


	4. Chapter 4

England was watching Canada pack, leaning his back against the wall near the door. The flowers that he'd bought for him are in a clear qrystal vase on the dresser near him.

"So, when will you be coming back here then?"

"I don't know for sure actually. But, it won't be long. I'll be back soon. Tell you what, I'll keep it in my mind and make sure to come back here to visit before the next meeting starts, alright?"

Arthur nodded his confirmation while also speaking it. "That seems fine to me."

Mathew twisted around to smile at him, "Yeah." he moved across the room dragging his suitcase behind him. Saying a quick "Excuse me." before brushing past England to go out into the hallway to the door. Arthur trailed after him and watched him leave his house, both of them said their good byes and Mathew was gone and on his way to the airport. He was leaving him behind.

His words before he left hadn't reassured England at all though.

'I don't want him to ever leave me like this.'

But, those were foolish thoughts, because he was already gone and you can't change the past only the future. And he would never get up the courage to think these thoughts before Mathew left, only after he was gone. He could only sit around and mope, regret his choices, then try to figure out a plan to avoid these situations from happening again only to abandon it when he gets the chance to put it into action.

'Like the fool I am I can only ever think about things but never act on them. Stupid. Why think at all if it does nothing to help you in the end?'

And when Mathew finally did come back to visit it hadn't felt it was "soon" at all. Any time apart felt like it was too long now. God dammit, he really had it bad now. He could understand where the expression love is like a disease came from now, now that he was infected and lying on its death bed about to be overcome by it. Why couldn't he just get up the courage to act on his feelings?

It was too much of a bother. It was distracting him too much. Mathew was distracting him. He could avoid him maybe. Then maybe this would all go away. His problems could simply disappear like Mathew would from his life.


End file.
